But I don’t understand. Things have been so quiet, then Prende’s dad was murdered, her condo is ransacked, she’s robbed in the street, them set with the fuck of all Don’s and now a raid on our warehouse. What’s next?
Is it us, or the fact that we love the women we love that’s fucking shit up? Or just a coincidence? I’ll take coincidence. Our women aren’t snitches.
However, the raid has to be more than just a coincidence. Even if someone reported suspicious activity, how did the cops get a warrant so quickly? It was a close call.
I return to my warm bedroom, the sleep I crave a forgone conclusion, when I hear, “What’s going on?”
“You need to be careful.”
“Careful how?”
“Do your normal routine, don’t share details with anyone, and be aware of your surroundings. For the next few days, text me when you leave a place and text me when you arrive at the next.”
I dive back into bed. Does God hate me or what? All I want is six hours of uninterrupted sleep.
With an attitude, she says, “Oh, the way you keep me in the loop?”
From the glow of the bedside lamp, I can see her plump breasts rise and fall, straining to be free of her see-through negligee. I’m tired and I’m pissed but fuck she looks hot.
Paybacks are a bitch.
I grab her by the waist and pull her towards me and my lips stifle any more words coming from her mouth. She pretends to fight.
“I’ll show you who answers to whom, and you’ll like it.
Somehow this seems to make her happy as she let’s out a gleeful shriek and I had mind blowing sex and even got a blow job out of the deal.
Dante is showing signs of stress. He’s one to keep it under wraps but last night was like that game we played as kids called Battleship. A near miss isn’t good enough, we need to know details as we can’t have a sunk ‘ship’.
I meet Riccardo, Dante, and Sal at a hillside park next to an old monastery, no longer in use. Our guards are on the lookout, not saying a word, not even to each other.
Someone brought food and we dig in, sitting at a table under trees that tower well over one hundred feet in the air. Looks like the food is from one of my favorite bakeries known for their homemade egg and thin Italian bacon on a fresh semolina roll. We have a choice of cheeses, either provolone or the American yellow cheese in all its gooey goodness.
“Who had the information?” I ask, taking a bite and chasing it with strong coffee out of a disposable cup.
“Just the usual,” says Riccardo between bites of food he can’t seem to eat fast enough. Maybe it’s from his days in the Israeli military, eat now or go without for a long time. Our mother employed the same tactics to get us to eat broccoli.
“Who is the usual?” Sal asks, looking like he just stepped off a billboard, with every hair in place.
A light wind moves the needles in the pines above us, creating a soft, rustling effect. I gaze at the surrounding landscape and enjoy the view of the green valley and blue skies.
“The guy who supervises the loading and unloading, Massimo and Tommaso. Tommaso’s been with us forever, it couldn’t be him,” Riccardo crumbles the wax paper from his sandwich and shoves it in the brown bag.
“I agree, I’ve known him forever. He could have skimmed money over the years, done lots of things, but no, he’s vested in us. He has the garage he runs for himself, at the same time, it’s a front for us. I don’t see it.”
“Massimo?”
“I’m keeping an eye on him, seems fine, we’ll wait and see, maybe keep the next few shipments under wraps.”
“Yeah, there’s been so many surprises lately. I’m thinking about cancelling the wedding and just eloping or having something like Marchello, small and safe. Damn, this is why I didn’t want a wife to begin with. What if someone goes after Juliet?”
“We wiped Conti off the planet, case closed.” Sal finishes his coffee and puts the empty cup down on the picnic table.
“I know. But the hair stands up on my back and it’s not from Juliet so it’s not good. Bad luck.”
“So, what’s our plan?” Riccardo asks.
“I’ll talk to our consigliere. Maybe we stash what we haven’t moved, or we just arrange to move it ourselves or use a different crew.”